December 20, 2005

  • It's not the time of the year to hear
    a Mother sobbing and lost
    and the mailman brings a holiday DNR order for your baby boy.
    No, this is the time of year for joy, hope, dreams.
    presents under the tree.
    But where does that come from when there is nowhere else to tug?
    How can you pretend to make it up,
    to sugar fluff and all that christmas time stuff,
    when a mother weeps for her son
    and one last time
    and what if's
    and what will I dos?
    What if the boy cries,
    "I can't breathe Mommy and I'm scared."
    and terror grips you awake
    in softly falling snow
    in the season of Miracles
    and freshly warmed sorrow.

    HOPE.
    It doesn't come on a rope

    And then another wave hits
    he's just a little boy.
    I love you Mother
    and I'm scared
    and we hate GOD
    for what he did
    for what he'll do.
    and it's christmas time, twinkly and bright
    but our heart is frozen blue.
    And a mother weeps for her baby son
    and wonders what to do.

Comments (4)

  • Are you this mother?  If so, my heart goes out to you.

  • My heart breaks for the Mother. 

    When Heather died, I hurt for my parents too, not just me.  I tend to feel other people's pain.  I couldn't imagine what it would be like losing a child.  No one has to be a Mother to feel this pain.

    I am proud of you, girl...Dave and I are here for YOU.  We know it is hard for you too.

  • My work system asked me this morning: (asks once a month)

    Please enter new password...

    "Devon" came in my head. 

Comments are closed.

Post a Comment

What?

I AM still paranoid,
though reasons changed.
I'm paranoid that they'll figure out the language
and patterns of
me,
and I'll forget to rea
r r
ange.

Then I'll just be textbook.